Shades Of Confusion
by pjstillnoon
Summary: All that was left was a searing passion brought forth on a tsunamic surge of long term desire. *The chapters have been updated 19/11/12
1. Chapter 1

**Part One:**

Gillian stands still for a moment and smiles, sipping her champagne. She is wearing a beautiful deep blue dress. It's meant to make her look good, accentuate all the right places, but not be overly flirty. She's here with someone after all, so technically, she's dressed up for him but, just say, if other people wanted to also notice, that will be fine as well. He is standing right by her side where he has been for most of the evening, just like the dutiful good boy that he is. He is the clichéd tall dark and handsome; Irish family, so beautiful eyes and skin but hopefully he doesn't also drink like a fish. It's probably not fair to judge so early on, but she has a history of being attracted to men with substance problems. She doesn't know. She hasn't gotten that far into knowing him. They're still at the casual dating stage. It's still about wondering whether the other person is interesting enough to continue seeing. They have chemistry on some level, Gillian would concede that if asked. He's an attractive man and he's attentive and polite and gets just that little bit animated when they debate politics or a contemporary something from the headlines. They don't talk about work. They're not at that stage either.

Except, by this point in the evening his presence is just starting to grate on her nerves a little bit. He's been following her around since she danced with Cal. Since Cal looked at her _that_ way and let his hand linger on her back just a little bit _too_ long as he walked away. But did Sean see that? Probably not. Because Gillian didn't even let it register in her mind until Sean's hand was on her waist, not her back, and his gaze was admiring, not... not... she couldn't even place her finger on the expression Cal had given her as he had turned to walk away. She just knew it made her feel all kinds of aware.

Of course Sean hadn't seen that. He didn't see what she was able to. And she didn't see what Cal was able to. So did that mean whatever Cal had shot at her had been intentional? Or had it been a mere slip of his mask? And if Sean hadn't seen what transpired, did he pick up on some other kind of signal that Gillian had missed, the one that made him stick to her side like glue until she started to feel a little claustrophobic? At least Cal gave her space. On occasion. Even when she didn't want it. She searches the crowd again, still not seeing him. Maybe it really had been a purposeful signal for her and she was meant to follow him now. But where has he gone? He has not reappeared.

"Gill?" Sean's voice was a low murmur, just for her. She turns her head slightly, gives him a smile, a 'sorry I wasn't listening, what were you saying? smile'. "Would you like another glass of champagne?"

"No thank you, that's enough for me."

"There's orange juice," Sean points out. He is a lawyer. Environmental law. That was probably the initial attraction. He has principals and he sticks to them very strictly. Gillian likes that in a man.

"I'll get it," she tells him with a 'stay!' command hidden in her tone. She slips away from the group of people she doesn't even know and makes her way to the drinks table. She puts down her empty champagne flute and instead takes the moment alone to survey the room again. The open junction of their arterial corridors is host to an unofficial book launch for the tomb Cal has finally finished and is now in print, about to be released next week. Gillian wanted to get in first, to congratulate him on actually gaining the achievement. She'd read it, of course, like she had read all of his books. This was the first manuscript he had given her though and she had been flattered and had gone over it with a fine tooth comb to find something constructive to give back to him. Anything. But it was just about flawless and she had found nothing and so she had handed it back to him with nothing to say other than 'it was great' and no way to keep herself involved even though she wanted to. So she compensated with a party. A party he was probably hating every minute of, proof in the way he had disappeared after his obligatory dance with her about an hour ago.

Gillian straightens her shoulders a little and brings her chin up. Cal always has a way of making her incapable of thinking like she should. She shouldn't be desperate for his attention and she shouldn't have to make him dance with her. Nor should she be hurt by the fact that he only did things when he wanted to... and she was still thinking about him!

She moves away from the table; focussing on a destination was a good distraction. She approaches the table with copies of his book on it. It was a much more personal tale this one. The others were so clinical and yet this one had him imprinted indefinitely on every page. She reaches for one, feeling over the smooth cover, subconsciously wanting to be closer to him. She picks the book up and studies his picture on the inside jacket. It is a good one; flattering. He looks great in black and white; handsome. The scruff on his cheeks has come up in the most...

She turns the page quickly, another distraction. And then she hesitates.

'_For my blind-spot. She's always there, even when I don't always see her. But when I dare to actually turn my head and look, everything is so much clearer_. _I hope I never lose her constant presence, right at my side_.'

Gillian stares at the dedication page for a long time. Seriously? She reads it again and then again. She is probably reading too much into it. He is probably talking about his daughter, Emily. She is probably being ridiculous. But it sure sounded like he was talking to her directly. She puts the book down on the table again, thoughtful and indecisive. But then while her mind plays with thoughts like the breeze casually plays with leaves in the fall, something strikes her cold. The way Cal had looked at her earlier when Sean had come to cut in on their dance, that expression that she couldn't explain in nice succinct little bundles of adjectives. She turns her back suddenly on the party and heads for his office.

But he isn't in there. Nor is he in his study, which is where she was almost certain he would actually be. So she leaves again, checking her office, just in case, before skating around the edge of the party, taking advantage of the very low light and loud music to head for the balcony, number four on her list. If he isn't there, then she's going to check his car is still in the garage downstairs...

He _is_ outside on the balcony and he turns when he hears the door and steps out of the shadows. "Hey," she greets him brightly, pleased with her detective skills.

"Hello darlin'," he smiles back.

"Getting some air?" She asks.

"Yeah," he agrees even though they both know he was actually hiding out. "I was gonna come back in, in a minute."

"Sure," Gillian agrees again.

"It's a good party," he gives a slight gesture with his hand.

She gives him another smile. Now that he has moved closer to her she can see his face and he is somewhat genuine with the statement even if the words are probably a little forced. She moves over to the railing and notes that he follows her, standing just behind her shoulder, so he is right in her blind spot. She looks out at the city lights for a moment and shivers a little against a sudden caress of a cool breeze. She hears the rustle of Cal's clothes behind her but is still startled when the warmth of his sports coat is suddenly around her bare shoulders.

"You seem cold," Cal explains in a soft tone.

"Thank you," Gillian responds just as gently, and turns to him, hyper aware that something is happening.

"Somethin' on your mind luv?"

Gillian gives a slight smile. "I was having a look at your book."

"Oh yeah?" Cal rocks, pleased, on his feet. He stands with his hands in his pockets. He's wearing all black this evening. Black trousers, black shirt, black sports coat. A deep red tie would have really set off his outfit. Shame he didn't wear ties anymore. Gillian wonders for a moment why he had stopped. "How'd you like the cova?"

Gillian laughs a little; that was not what she came to talk about and they both know it. "I'm more interested in what's behind the cover."

"Oh yeah?" Cal repeats coming to stand a little closer to where she has her back resting against the rail. She pulls his coat tighter around her, taking in the lingering substitute warmth of his body. "You've already read it," he points out.

"I'm talking about the dedication," she finally clarifies, finding her heart beat a little funny at the admission, like it's a big deal. It's not news to her, her anxiety. When it comes to Cal she was far too on edge far too often. Cal doesn't say anything to that but she notes he doesn't quite look at her directly. "It was very flattering."

"It was meant to be," and then he does look up and she knows without a doubt that it _was_ for her, not Emily or anyone else. Her breath quickens slightly and she tells herself to calm down. This isn't a big deal. It's just a few lines in a book. Flattering, yes, to have a book dedicated to her, but still... just words on a page. "You deserve more than a few lines in a book," he adds in a low voice.

Ok, yes it _is_ a big deal. For them. For her.

Gillian watches him for a moment and he isn't staring at her or studying her intensely, but just watching her, waiting for her reaction, waiting for her to say the next line in this subtle little game they seem to be playing. "We haven't talked in a while."

"No," Cal agrees easily.

"Maybe we could talk now," Gillian suggests without a hint of hope. She expects him to rebuff her and she is already preparing herself to give him his coat back and go inside again. She came for confirmation of the dedication and she got it. She doesn't want or need anything else from him.

"All right," Cal decides, looking like he has just stunned the both of them. He steps closer to her, angling his body in a way so he is half shielding her from the view from the door, keeping his distance but also standing close. Intimate. In a way only Cal seems able to create. Gillian suppresses a second shiver.

"The dedication," she starts, thinking she is going to have to pry conversation out of him...

"Is an apology."

Gillian closes her mouth abruptly.

"For, you know..." Cal vaguely gestures. "It's, you know, how much you mean to me. How much I trust you and how important you are to me."

Gillian looks over at him a little surprised that he is admitting this, and so freely. They're similar heights when she's wearing heels and she's suddenly struck with a memory: this moment has a familiar feel to it. The balcony, at night, a breeze, music in the background, and them talking about their relationship.

"And that I miss you," Cal tells her in a low voice, standing far too close for plutonics. His gaze easily penetrates the dimness around them. Gillian feels like time is standing still for a moment. Cal just watches her, and waits.

"You miss me?" Her voice is small and her breath his short in her chest. Her heart pounds with remembering what else happened that night.

"I miss how we used to be before I was struck down with temporary insanity," the vaguest of a ghost's grin graces his mouth. His words are heavy and she knows he is talking about all that has happened in the last six months. She's also suddenly aware that he's nervous, his body quivers, she can feel it, because he stands too close. There are two options left to her, instil a notion he already knows, or hope that they can move beyond it.

"That's a hard defence to prove."

Cal raises his hands in a sign of parley. "Not even gonna attempt to defend myself on that one. I was wrong and I hurt you and I'm sorry," he drops his hands to her arms and gets a little bit closer. "I'm hopin' we can try and get back to where we used to be." He pauses, his heavy gaze sincere and his tone careful. "What do you think?"

Gillian watches him for a moment, taking just an ounce of delight in letting him squirm for a moment. Yeah, he really had hurt her acting the way he had and no, a simple apology probably wasn't going to cut it, but then he knows that, and so he dedicated his book to her. It isn't just an act of placation though, he means it. She can see it on his face. He is trying to _show_ her.

"Yes," she tells him simply. "I can." Because she had already started to claw her way back; the other balcony scene in her mind was proof of that. She had started to fight back and Cal, for once, had actually let her and here they were now, with the potential to take one more step in the right direction. And she wasn't going to get in the way of that.

"Thank you," he murmurs so softly she almost misses it before he's pressing his lips against hers gently. How has she even let him get that near without shoving him away? He has such a special way of getting close to her skin. Gillian is so surprised by the gesture, the kiss, but for some reason she is not put off by it, not like she thought she might be if he ever dared to actually kiss her properly one day. The other kisses they have shared haven't been repulsive but they have all been an act, a show, for a case. Now she wonders what he had been thinking when they'd kissed those times, back then.

Cal lingers for a second before pulling away again, this time, just half the distance between them than before. His hazel eyes study her in the strange light and she feels a pull that refuses to let her look away from him. And suddenly there it is again, that look that Gillian had been struggling to identify earlier. She is sure of one thing. It makes her stomach quiver and her heart tremor and she has this overwhelming urge to...

"I've seen that expression before," Gillian finds herself murmuring.

Cal moves his entire body in closer this time. "Have you?" He queries genuinely, no more teasing. His eyes rove over her face, over and over.

"Yes," Gillian nods slightly, her eyes never leaving his. "Just before. When we were dancing," she's practically whispering.

"Oh?" Cal raises his eyebrows slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't even know you're doing it," Gillian notes in astonishment.

"I," Cal starts to talk and then stops, stunned, and obviously doesn't know what to say.

"What is it?" She asks him boldly.

"I don't know," he admits on a breath.

Gillian watches him a moment longer but it is gone again and so she straightens up from the railing to put her arms around his shoulders; she is preparing to go back inside. His arms slip under his own coat on her body and wrap politely around her waist. They embrace briefly but it is still enough for Gillian to feel the warmth of his body, to feel the heavy weight of his hands on her back, to take in his scent, to wonder about his lips again, how they feel. As Gillian starts to pull away she brings her face around to see him again and in an instant their lips have met again. She has no idea who just kissed who right now but she knows without a doubt it feels so damn right and her stomach wholeheartedly agrees, leaping to its feet in a standing ovation.

Cal's hands smooth around and tighten on her waist. She slips a hand into his hair, something she has always wanted to do but never found the excuse for. His lips are warm against hers and unashamed in the way they tease and press and then suck and pry and his tongue begs at the entrance to her mouth. She doesn't even consciously let him in; she just knows in the next second, he's there. Her hands simply stroke through his hair and along his shoulders and neck and ear and around his jaw. Her body easily presses against his, wanting to fall into him so completely that she could get lost within the shaded confines of his heart.

Gillian gasps cool night air or she moans delight or something as she breaks away from him, or he pulls away from her; she makes a noise, she's pretty sure it was her. She isn't even sure what she's doing anymore or where she is or what is going on, because all she can think about right now is that that was a very hot kiss and she has never wanted someone so much more than this in her entire life. It scares her. And then before she can register that feeling, something scares her even more. A noise. The door. The door is opening! She pulls away from Cal abruptly, disentangling them both as she turns her head quickly to see Sean leaning through the doorway. He looks surprised to see them there and Gillian wonders just how much he has actually just witnessed.

"Uh Gill I just came to see if you were all right with going home now? I've just had a call from my boss who's in Germany."

Gillian nods, she remembers about his boss. She has lost track of Cal. He's moved off somewhere, slipping away in the distraction. Her heart continues to thunder.

"He needs me to call in at work to find something in a file for him."

"Sure," Gillian acknowledges, not even hearing the details, just noting that it was time to go and he _had_ seen something because he looks a little angry and unsure and hurt. "Cal," she turns to look for him. He's approaching her again, his face in that mask that she has difficulty reading. "I'll see you tomorrow?" She offers him as he starts to pass her slowly, casually, moving to go back inside as well.

"Yeah tomorrow," he agrees making eye contact with her, but she doesn't know what he means. He reaches the door and Sean steps out of his way to let him exit.

Tomorrow did not mean tomorrow at all. It meant...

"Are you ready to go?" Sean interrupts Gillian.

"Yes. I'll grab my purse," Gillian tells him, hating how her voice sounds guilty in her ears. But then, he won't be able to hear that either, will he? She strides down the corridor towards Cal's office, Sean hot on her heels, where her purse is held in the cloak bay next door; her office is locked for this evening. Gillian steps around Anna's desk to get to the back room.

**CV PJ**

Cal ducks back out of sight as they approach, fearful for just a second, that maybe they were coming to confront him. But Gillian steps behind Anna's desk and he figures she is just going to get her coat. Then he can hear the rumble of Sean's voice through the wall and Cal doesn't quite have the heart to not eavesdrop as much as he possibly could. There's a camera in that little room for security reasons and it wouldn't take much for him to move to his desk and bring up the feed. Except if he left now he would lose precious time and he could already hear his name floating salaciously towards him.

Something about 'Cal gets really close'.

And the returning 'he's my business partner, we _are_ close.'

Then something muffled by a burst of noise from the party Cal hasn't actually been in attendance of for nearly two hours, even though he has been in the building. Gillian's tone is light, comical, rebuffing her boyfriend or date or whatever he is, and Cal feels... what is it he feels? Pleased by that in some way. He can still feel the heat of her body beneath his hands. He doesn't even want to think about her mouth right now. He suppresses a shiver and strains to hear more, his ear practically pressed against the wall.

"It seemed more than a friendly hug."

Cal can hear him pouting.

"Yeah well, Cal's not always good with boundaries."

And Gillian's tone is far too dry for Cal's liking.

"You're still wearing his jacket."

There is a pause and Cal tenses to hear more.

"Oh," Gillian's voice finally responds and Cal can detect that it was strained even through the wall. "I didn't," she hesitates. "I'll leave it in his office."

Cal pushes away from the wall and quickly powers back down the corridor. He uses Gillian's trick of skirting around the edges of the crowd to make his escape for the exit and rushes down the stairs to his car.

Tomorrow. There was something in the way she said tomorrow.

He pulls around the block, just out of sight, but still so he can see, and waits for them to leave. Sean takes her straight home. He walks her to the door. Such a gentleman. Cal waits further down the road for him to leave once more, before starting his car again.

**CV PJ**

Gillian closes the door on Sean after a polite good night and even a little chaste kiss that she kind of liked even though her mind was already lavishing over the kiss she had shared with Cal half an hour ago. She clicks the catch of the door in place but doesn't lock it. She turns her back against the wood and presses up against it and waits, confident that Cal will come, that tomorrow didn't mean tomorrow. Of course, she could be wrong, she could have misread him. She often did. She will give him twenty minutes, she promises herself, and then she will stop being so absurd and go to bed. What were they even doing? Oh, what if he does show up? What will that mean? And what did the kiss mean in the first place? And who had kissed who? Was that even important? She gives a little silent groan of frustration. She hates that Cal has a special way of confusing her. And why does she have to be such a sucker to keep going back for more?

She hears the scuff of a shoe on the concrete step and she freezes, sure it's him, her heart freaking out over the fact that she was right. Maybe she _can_ read him after all. But then for a long moment there is nothing else. She feels completely insane. Imagining that he would come to her, it's so preposterous. Hoping he had felt something just as strongly as she had in that kiss is just... ridiculous. And then there is a knock on the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two:**

Gillian comes awake to the sound of her phone ringing. It's nearby. But she can't remember exactly where she had put it down last night. Had she brought it into the bedroom with her? She usually does. But it seems further way than her bedside table right now. Or maybe that's just because she feels like she's had about two minutes sleep. She shifts a little, trying to coax her brain awake enough to reach for it, to open her eyes and search. Usually early morning phone calls were for a good reason... Oh she's naked! Cal! Gillian pries her eyes open, her heart beating wildly. The phone stops ringing but there he is. In bed next to her. In her bed. Next to her. And is that his hand on her hip? Cal looks over at her, a little blearily, like he's just woken as well. "Hi."

"Hi," Gillian repeats on a whisper of wonderment. Cal's in her bed. There's no denying it, despite her brain apparently having a hard time registering it. He's there. His hand _is_ on her hip and it kind of caresses in a possessive way.

Cal clears his throat, his eyes more intense now. "Good mornin'."

"Morning," Gillian murmurs. She's staring. She knows she's staring but... Cal's here. She just... can't... Cal's here! He shifts, so he's sitting up a little, leaning on an elbow. Gillian knows what's coming next. She knows it. She ignores the missed phone call for a moment because she knows they need to talk. The conversation they didn't have last night was now in the bed between them.

"So about last night," Cal starts and then another phone starts ringing. His phone. No wait, that was the same ring tone as before. That's not her phone, it's his phone. Someone is trying to get hold of him. Cal hesitates. He looks over his shoulder. There are clothes on the floor and they're not Gillian's. "Uh," he turns back to her. He seems reluctant.

"You should get that," Gillian suggests. Her shoulders are tense, up around her ears and she's clinging on to the bed cover like she's afraid of exposing herself. Cal turns over, flicking back the cover to stand and she's so aware of how naked he is. She can see all of him. All of him. She looks away. Checks out the wall opposite her bed... the curtains. Out of the corner of her eye she can see him bend to his jeans and find his phone. "Yeah?" He answers roughly and she still keeps her gaze averted as he stands again.

"Well that's not my problem," Cal gruffs. He pauses so briefly, then: "No I neva said that."

He listens again as he picks up his underwear from the carpet, and back to her, starts to step into them. Gillian tries so hard not to look, but she can see him move in her peripheral vision and she's thinking about last night, making her body tremble slightly with wanting him all over again.

Then the phone beside her bed starts ringing. Her home phone. And Gillian has to lean right across the bed to get it, because Cal was asleep on her side. The pillow smells like him and she loses concentration for a split second. When she grabs the handset and sits up, one hand to her ear, the other to her chest, Cal is looking at her. She stares at him for a long time too and then simultaneously they both direct their attention back to their phone calls. "Yeah I'm here," Cal says.

"Yes?" Gillian.

"Oh Doctor Foster, I've just tried calling Doctor Lightman but he didn't answer his phone."

It's Anna on the other end and she sounds a little flustered.

Gillian's eyes slide over to Cal, who was pulling on his jeans now, still arguing with whoever it was he was talking to. "Fine," he grouched. "Fine I'll be there in a minute." Pause. "Yes a bloody minute. I'm there when I'm there." He hangs up the phone, tosses it to the bedspread; it knocks Gillian's bare ankle but Cal doesn't seem to notice, he's doing up his jeans with both hands now and Gillian's imaging herself undoing the zipper.

"... Delegation and Doctor Lightman isn't here..."

Gillian realises something: she should be paying attention to the conversation, not Cal. "Uh." Oh. Damn it. Cal is going to run out on her. He isn't going to go to work. He is talking to someone else and Anna is pointing out the he isn't at work like he was meant to be and oh, Gillian realises she is going to have to cover for him. "I'll be right there," she tells Anna, and hangs up as well. Gillian to the rescue.

Cal's watching her again. He approaches, seems unsure, hesitates, almost scuffs a bare toe against the carpet; it's almost comical. "I have to go."

"I know."

He leans down suddenly, draws a hand along her jaw to tilt her head up to meet his mouth. He gives her a not-quite-chaste kiss, but not a full on assault. It doesn't matter. Gillian's chest fills up with it. "We'll talk late-a yeah?" He asks when he draws back, standing next to her again, bare chest and jeans riding low. Gillian has to swallow just to manage the nod. "Good," he says and moves away. She seems him stoop to pick up his shirt from the hallway floor. It's only when the front door slams shut that she can bring herself to even move; spell broken.

**CV PJ**

_Her heart pounds while she turns, what feels like really, really slowly, and undid the catch to pull the door open. It's him. She is right and he gives her an expression that acknowledges her presence and then almost seems apologetic, somewhat sheepish. But she's relieved and he must be able to see that because he looks assured again as he steps forward purposefully, pushing her back, not even asking her if it's all right to come in. It is though. It's ok. _

_He explains softly that he wanted to make sure _he_ was gone before he, and he trails off and gestures to the door and she knows what he means. She nods. He wanted to make sure Sean was gone before he came in. Gillian closes the door behind him again, her heart continuing to pound and her mind racing forward to what could potentially happen next, what she was sure was going to happen next, not whatever was going on right now._

**CV PJ**

She stalled. She played host and made small talk and now she's excused herself and she's calling Cal because, damn it, he was supposed to take care of this and it isn't fair of him to be standing there all naked this morning saying he had to go and leaving her to deal with his stuff once more. She wasn't sure what she was thinking earlier but it's been an hour and the delegation have been patiently polite with her for more than half that time and she thought Cal would show. She didn't think he would let her down. Surely not after what he said on the balcony last night?

"Gill," he answers, a statement.

"When are you getting here?"

He's silent for a second. "I can't. I'm not in the city."

"You're what?"

"Wallowski's got her panties in a budge..."

Gillian stops listening. Her heart sinks. Of course. Wallowski. And her panties. Two things she doesn't need to hear in the same sentence. Especially not coming out of Cal's mouth. She wonders, have they? She knows she shouldn't think about it. But has he slept with her?

"You'll have to do it."

"I _can't_ do it," Gillian retorts sharply, her frustration over this stupid delegation he promised he would take care of, his blurry relationship with Wallowski, and last night/this morning suddenly merging into a seething irrationality. He always puts Wallowski first. On a good day she finds that irritating. With the swirling emotions still coursing through her body, it makes her want to scream at him.

He does sound apologetic as he calmly explains that the detective needs him for an emergency, that she doesn't have a lot of time to hold a man she suspects of murder, several murders, and she could really do with Cal's help on this one, to make sure the guy doesn't get away with it again. He couldn't leave just yet. "You undastand right?"

Gillian feels rejection so acutely she has to blink back shameful tears.

**CV PJ**

_She offers him something to drink, for want of something to do, for want of a few minutes to clear her head or let her heart rate slow down a bit or maybe to let the voice of reason speak its peace instead of remaining so tight lipped. She is nervous now and not really sure what to do next, how to go about this, whatever this is. _

_Cal agrees to the drink and follows her to the kitchen. She can feel his hand almost touching her back as they walk but it is more like she can _sense_ the presence of his fingers rather than any actual contact; he doesn't touch her. In the kitchen she reaches the bench and turns to face him. He steps right into her body and presses his lips against hers without preamble. Her arms wrap automatically around his shoulders while her heart jumps out of its starting blocks. Cal's first kiss is tentative, careful, like he is forcing himself through initial nerves or second thoughts, or giving her a way to say 'no'. But as soon as they make contact all of that falls away and all that is left is a searing passion brought forth on a tsunamic surge of long term desire._

**CV PJ**

Cal strides through the corridor of the Lightman Group, a man on a mission. Actually it takes some control to not run. He is done with Wallowski, at least for a little while she looks into the next clue. He had told her he couldn't hang around and no, he couldn't go with her to the next stop, but yes, she could call him if she needed him again. Gillian's silence on the phone had unnerved him before she hung up. When he tried calling her back her phone was off. Off. It was never off. Right now, he needed to be back here. So he was.

Cal pushed against Gillian's office door quickly and burst into the room. She wasn't there. Damn it. He turns and tries his office and then the lab, the cube, the interrogation rooms, and then, frustrated, because she isn't any of those places either, he finds Anna and asks where Gillian is.

"She's handling the An..."

"Delegation, right," Cal almost groans as he cuts her off. He had forgotten about that. He thought she had called him about something else, just some other run of the mill case. Not the delegation. He had forgotten about it. Shit. He checks his watch. It's rapidly approaching midday. Shouldn't Gillian be finished with that by now? She would be even more annoyed if she was caught up with them all day. Especially because she was covering for him. He couldn't break into the conference room and steal her for a few minutes either. That would be rude to their guests, and the chat he and Gillian were meant to be having was by no means, a quick and easy one to have. Things needed to be said and that would take some time. Especially if he did it properly.

Cal wanders back to his office slowly, thinking about his next move. It is important that they talk. He has a lot he wants to tell her, to have her understand. But now that he's been rudely reminded about the expression on her face that morning before he had walked out, the tone of her voice when he left her to deal with the delegation that she had practically begged him to handle more than two weeks ago, he decides he is going to have to play the situation slightly differently.

**CV PJ**

_It is like they are back on the balcony. She kisses him with unrestrained fervour and he has to admit, he didn't think it would be like this. He thought she would be cautious and probably push him away, ask him what he was doing, what _they_ were doing and what it all meant. But she hasn't. She isn't. And he doesn't think to stop to do that either. He has wanted this for far too long to be able to have any self control or any much more rational thoughts other than what he was focussing on: the feel of her lips and hands and body against his. The way her fingers smooth through his hair and curve around his neck like they have done it before. It feels like they have done this before. But they haven't and his hands want to feel as much of her as they can before she really did come to her rational senses and end it all. _

_He curves his hands around her waist and hips, up the back of her shoulders to the base of her skull as he explores her mouth hotly. His fingers find easy paths through soft hair. His lips tease hers and her tongue presses against his in a confident way. She explores his mouth as he pushes to do the same, not wanting to let an inch of her go by. He wants it all and he wants to commit as much of her to memory as he possibly can. His hands dare to press over her breasts and, encouraged, when she doesn't knee him in the groin, he kneads the flesh of her ass. Her hands trail just as blatantly over the back of his scapulas and down to his waist. Her exploration is delicate compared to his but for some reason that is exactly what is driving him wild. He drops his head to kiss her neck, to nip at the skin just beneath her ear, because he needs air, and because he's fantasised about doing it for so long he just can't stand not to anymore. She gives a little gaspy moan that has him pressing her into his body. He wants to feel her warmth, to push this as far as he possibly can before she decides to deny him._

_She can't possibly want him as badly, can she?_

**CV PJ**

"Doctor Lightman was looking for you," Anna shoots to Gillian as she quickly makes her way from the front entrance to Cal's office.

"Ok," Gillian responds over her shoulder. So she _did_ seen him sneak back in. "Thank you." And before she has fully turned back to see where she is going, she collides with a solid body. Male. She can tell who it is even before she has regained the rest of her senses, because of the way he smells. Spicey and musky; sexy. Oh... Her stomach quivers in overwhelming memory before her eyes even look up. She becomes aware of a firm hand on her elbow and a voice talking and she meets his eye.

"I'll meet you now," he is on the phone but his gaze is heavy on hers and it speaks to her so loudly that she just about falls into a puddle on the floor at his feet. Cal hangs the phone up. "All right?" He asks her slowly and deliberately, his eyes intense, his hand gripping her firmly.

"Ye-fine," she stammers slightly feeling so stupid and incoherent. And also slightly unsteady on her feet.

"I have to go," he gestures over his shoulder even though it is nowhere near the right direction for the exit of the building.

"I'm," Gillian agrees, pointing to her office, like she is also busy, which is not where she had been headed in the first place, but which seems like a pretty convenient excuse right about now. And hopefully makes her look like less of an idiot. She hopes.

"Of course," Cal offers. His gaze does not leave hers and she can feel herself trembling slightly now, his hand is still on her elbow. "When I get back," he starts and dips his head towards her ever so slightly. "We should really clear the air."

So Gillian finds herself nodding along in agreement, her stomach is nervous for a whole other reason now. She wants that conversation but now with this day dragging out between them, she's had time to wonder about what he will say. Then she hears a voice that makes her feel an irrational surge of embarrassment and rejection all over again.

"What's taking so long?" Detective Wallowski calls down the hallway to where they stand. "We've got to go."

Cal already has his hand back in his own personal space and is stepping around Gillian quickly, brushing against her shoulder slightly, absently dismissing her. "I said I'd meet you downstairs."

"And I waited for five minutes. I thought you had got lost."

There is something in her tone that makes Gillian feel small and she forces her legs to take that first step away from them, convinced that she is being paranoid, but unable to shake the fact that Cal has blown her off twice now for the other woman.

**CV PJ**

_Kissing turns to abject feeling. Feeling turns to desperate undressing. It seems like a natural progression. Neither of them fights or hesitates; they aren't trying to put a stop to it. Gillian pushes gently at Cal to move away from the bench and when he pulls back she follows him with her mouth, not wanting him to be more than a millimetre away from her. She turns her body and tugs him along behind her so he gets the message. He gets the message. She's not saying no to this. In fact, she wants to take it further. She walks backwards to her bedroom, bumping occasionally into the doorframe or the wall as she makes her way along blindly. Her attention and focus is on Cal. _

_He traces over her mouth in every consuming way until she forgets how to breathe, until she isn't sure of her name anymore. But she is certainly sure of his. She can feel her body craving him in a way she has never experienced before. Her heart hammers out the demand and Cal answers it in such a satisfying way as he undoes the zip of her dress and pushes it from her shoulders. _

**CV PJ**

For the second time that day, Cal pushes on the door to the entrance of his business and strides down the corridor, past his own name on the wall and all those faces in various freeze frames of emotion. He bee lines it as eagerly as he can for his partner's office, determined that this time, they are going to talk. As soon as he rounds the corridor he spins back, his heart pounding and not in a good way. She is standing in the hallway. Her back to him. Talking to Sean. Flirting with Sean. Tall, dark, clichéd Sean Reardon. Some sort of environmentalist or something. And why oh why did she have to have met him in the first place? He makes Cal look bad. He's attractive and attentive and really, if Cal is even allowed to have an opinion on the subject (and maybe he is now? After last night? Did that count?), Reardon tried too hard to win her over. Cal didn't try enough. He was trying now. He kept trying to talk to her and here she was, talking to _him_.

Cal leans forward slightly so he can study their body language. Reardon is open to her. He's smiling, bastard. And Gillian, well she is harder to read because she is facing slightly away from Cal, but he can see her nodding at whatever Reardon is saying. A pang of dread goes through Cal. What was he thinking last night? That having sex with her was going to somehow fuse them together in an irrevocable way? That it would be a magical cure to all their problems and from now on it would be nothing but sunshine, rainbows and puppies? It obviously wasn't going to be like that. Life isn't like that. He isn't like that. That's why he wants to talk. To explain.

But did she have to go back to Mister Perfect straight away? She hasn't even given him a chance. He isn't ready to give up on them. Maybe Cal hadn't been fair last night but, god, the way she kissed! If he had had any self control at all that evening, it would have melted under the heat of her mouth. And her naked body. And her voice in a dim bedroom. Oh good lord. He hadn't given a thought to practicality of 'them' or the real world when she had been in his arms. They longed to have her back there, by the way, and so it hurt all the more to see her flirting with this guy. She screws him and then runs back to her boyfriend!

Cal feels used like he never has before in his life. He supposes he should appreciate the irony. He has used women in the past before too. And he's used Gillian in other ways. But not like this. Never, ever like this. He wouldn't. Last night was real for him. He had every intention of... something. It wasn't nothing. It was _something_. He wished more than ever that he could read her. Just a hint. To know that last night meant something to her too. He goes back to that morning and that expression on her face...

He finds it really hard to believe Gillian would behave this way.

Cal suddenly hears words that imply they're about to go out for lunch and so he decides that he doesn't really want to be witness to this touching little moment any longer. He pushes away from the wall and strides around it casually. Reardon immediately gives him a casual greeting and he returns it with a nod, wishing desperately, as he passes by Gillian, that he could just reach out with nothing more than a hand to claim her as his own.

**CV PJ**

"_Yes!" She whispers near his ear and it spurs him on. "Oh god yes!" She breathes with a moan and her hands grip his waist tighter. He just about dies when he lets himself think about what they're doing right now. They're making love and it's nothing like he has ever experienced before. He's made love before, with other women, of course he has. But this... this is something else entirely. This is like having her so far under his skin, he wants to be able to wrap himself around her heart so that he could be the closest to _her_ that he could possibly get. And it is thoughts like those that scare him and yet thrill him and, all in all, this is the hottest, most confusing, but most real moment of his life. This is it. This is perfection. His dreams haven't even done him justice. _

**CV PJ**

Gillian pours coffee and then turns for the fridge, intent on retrieving some cream to top it off and Cal is there. He is right there behind her. "We need to talk," he tells her evenly, like he is angry with her about something. She feels like she's in trouble. But that is mostly because of the look in his eye. It makes her knees weak, the way he looks at her. It's predatory and kind of hot. But underneath it, she knows there is a storm coming.

"Ok sure, let's talk," she says with a challenge in her tone despite feeling a surge of fear. She really doesn't know what he is going to say. They have been missing each other for most of the day and it felt a bit like it was on purpose. Like every time he runs off to Wallowski. Or earlier, when he just walked on by her without even acknowledging her presence.

She straightens her shoulders, preparing herself to fight back if she has to; she knows he can be a right bastard when he's cornered and she certainly has no intention of making this easier for him. She is preparing herself for a letdown, but she is going to make him look her in the eye and say the words. For the first time, regret comes into the room behind her. She is aware of its presence and yet she wants to ignore it. She doesn't want to regret sleeping with him. But perhaps she has to resign herself to it at some point. Sooner or later? She is going to have to start protecting herself at some stage. She can't always let herself get sucked in by him.

"Your office?" He suggests after a beat. When it was clear she is not going to take control of this situation. She's not going to let him off the hook and he isn't even sure that any of this is his fault.

"Fine," she agrees and takes a step forward. She brushes past him like he had done to her several times today already. She hears him turn and follow after her but they don't say a word and just as they reach the doorway to the break room, his phone starts ringing. Gillian suppresses a sigh and the urge to turn and throw her coffee in his face. Out of the corner of her eye she can see him dig for the phone in his pocket. He checks the screen and Gillian takes advantage of that hesitation to stride away from him, unable to contain her annoyance any longer. It's getting ridiculous.

"Oi Gill wait," he calls to her and hurries to catch up. "I'll ignore it."

"No it's fine," Gillian stopps abruptly and the hand that has been reaching out for her collides into her side sending a sharp jolt through her abdomen. Cal seems surprised even before she delivers her final blow. "Answer it. It must be important if she keeps ringing," her tone is laced with venom. She's not being fair but she can't even help it. Something or someone is conspiring to keep them from having that conversation and really, if it meant something to him, then he could just say that and she would wait. It would give her the strength to just wait a little bit longer.

The call ends anyway and Cal gestures with that hand as he speaks next, "it's not..." but it starts ringing again almost immediately and he manages to look somewhat abashed.

"It really _must_ be more important," Gillian shoots at him, taking delight in the hurt expression that flashes over his face before she walks away again, thinking she is acting far too much like an out of character bitch right now and hating herself for it. But also being unable to stop feeling so used.

**CV PJ**

_She couldn't have stopped this even if she wanted to, or even had a coherent thought to. It is too much, far too overwhelming, far too perfect and she shuts out thoughts of the world and real life and is in the moment. She has never done it before. There has always been something else there, a practicality that she ignores now, an emotional fallout that she refuses to acknowledge on this occasion. This, with Cal, is beyond mind blowing. It's craziness in physical form. He's tangible ecstasy. And she can't get enough of it. Of him._

_She pulls him closer, pushing their connection to the absolute limits. She wants him, all of him, and she wants to take him with her as she spirals down in a vortex of pure pleasure. She wants him to know how he makes her feel. She wants him to know just how much he means to her. She wants him to know that if he just asks, she will be his. She already is._

**CV PJ**

At least she got it out of her system. That's what she thinks as she sits back at her desk and tries to decide what she's going to do next. She leans toward just telling him to forget about it. Perhaps that one night was enough and now that it's over she can move on from something that never really started, make a decision about Sean once and for all (especially now that she's no longer confused about her feelings for either man) and Cal can claim his conquest and leave her alone. Cal is not relationship material anyway. He's a 'love them and leave them' kind of guy. While she isn't particularly pleased about being another notch on his proverbial bed post, at least she knows all about what she had been missing out on all this time.

In fact, that seems like a good plan. The best option. Whatever she saw on Cal's face while on the balcony, she probably misread it; he has always notoriously been difficult to figure out after all. And the book dedication was probably just his attempt to make sure she didn't feel the need to abandon him suddenly, particularly after all the crap he has pulled lately, with calling her mother superior and making threats over their finances, the general dismissals and this new interest in a crooked cop, which was just begging for trouble. He was genuine with it, the dedication that was, she was sure of that, but that didn't mean it was a declaration of love or anything else. He had never made those promises to her. She's being a typical girl, thinking last night meant more than it really did, that's all. But she would be damned if he was going to get the upper hand over her again. She's tired of being played by him.

It doesn't change the fact that she's hurt.

**CV PJ**

_He explodes, and he swears, and he tries not to fall, because this is intense and he can't control the quiver of his body, let alone his thoughts. It's a mixture of pinpoint pleasure and the disbelief that they've finally crossed that line. He's ecstatic and it's not just because he got his rocks off. He kisses her tenderly while she whimpers and continues to come down, not yet back in the room, and he hopes she knows just how much he cares, how much this means, and how much everything will be different from now on. She gives a little sigh beneath him and her grip finally loosens on his flesh and he shifts to his side to hug her close to him. She turns into his body and rests her head somewhere along the edge of his jaw and into his neck and shoulder. It's like she just fits perfectly against his body and they lie contentedly together for a moment._

"_Gill?" Cal finally finds his voice._

_She gives a lazy 'hmm' in response and he notices she is slack in his arms. Her breathing is slow and steady. He waits a moment longer, wondering if she will shift to look at him or insist he say whatever it is that he was going to say. She doesn't. He kisses the top of her head, tells her 'never mind' anyway, and vows to himself that they will talk in the morning when they wake up. _

**CV PJ**

"We can talk late-a yeah?" Cal speaks into his phone, watching Gillian push on her office door to enter. He has determined the call isn't about some sort of emergency and now his focus is back on Gillian. Damn it, they need to talk.

"Sure, I was just seeing what you were up to," Emily replies easily.

"Thanks luv. I'm in the middle of somethin' important."

"Not a problem Dad. Call me when you're free." She hangs up and Cal does the same and strides purposefully down the corridor. They are going to have that talk right now, even if he has to lock her in there and barricade the exit so she won't be able to leave. He opens her office door with a sense of dread. The expression on her face is determined and he knows, not only was she expecting him, he is also going to have to work extra hard to get through to her now. He shouldn't have left it too long. He knows his mistake now. He should have made sure they talked that morning before everything else happened to unfortunately pull them apart.

Gillian gives him a glare as he comes in. "I'm busy," she says pre-emptively.

"It's a busy day," Cal notes as if this isn't a big deal.

"Yeah well, I'm behind. So I don't have time to talk ok?" She says it sharply, so there isn't meant to be room for him to respond, even though there was a question in there.

"And how did you get behind?" He stupidly asks, thinking if he tries just a little teasing and maybe a little charm, she might respond with one of her coy little smiles and the tension would be broken and they could talk. Really talk. About all the tough stuff.

"How do you think Cal?" She replies with frustration and anger and sardony and he knows he's made another error. He has misread her, again, and her how she hurts, plus this entire situation. She slaps a hand down on the folders open in an array in front of her. "I'm behind," she bites out sharply, not waiting for him to respond in any way or to even acknowledge the conversation. "Because I had to deal with the And..."

"Delegation," Cal speaks over her softly. Damn.

"I told you I couldn't deal with them today because I was busy." Only the unbridled anger shows through now and he thinks he could do little more than stand there and just take it. "I asked you, I begged you to just deal with this one thing for me today because I _needed_ to get these papers in order..."

Cal zones out as she rants, feeling inexplicably sad. How does he always manage to get it so wrong with her? A little spark went off inside him and he wants to fight back but for some reason his rational mind kicks in as well and he holds his tongue. Probably because it's the middle of the afternoon and he's aware of their employees in the building and that Gillian will not think it a good idea to have a fight when everyone could potentially overhear. Even though he really wants to tell her to shut up and listen. Even though they've fought in front of everyone before. It's just all so different now.

Gillian gets up and pushes past a silent Cal to leave for a meeting she was already unprepared for this morning, and now is doubly so because she's run out of time. It will not help her stress levels to also show up late. He doesn't say a word as she leaves her office and she's so mad it isn't until she's heading across the city that all that tension suddenly rushes out of her, leaving her feeling tingly. She shouldn't have let her emotions get all riled up. She is, if nothing else, professional, and going off at him at work is not fair, to either of them. By the time she gets to her meeting she is promising herself she will talk to him when she gets back. That is, if he's around. And he is. She asks Anna on the front desk if Cal was in his office when she returns an hour and a half later. The young woman replies that, yes, he's still in there and so Gillian pushes on his half closed office door, readying herself for 'the talk' they really need to have. Even if it's to say 'thanks for last night, let's go our separate ways'. They're both adults after all.

**CV PJ**

_Gillian feels his arms tighten around her and she shifts into him contentedly. Her body is lax and unresponsive, her mind already closing down for peaceful sleep. He speaks her name softly and she has to force a response out of her throat; she's already practically gone. She feels a bit like she has been drugged. It feels like she has had an overwhelming craving finally satisfied. This is the most perfect moment of her life. Better than her wedding day. Better than the day she had held her daughter for the very first time and realised she was a mother now. How can that possibly be?_

_Cal kisses her head and tells her whatever he was going to say doesn't matter and then he holds her while she drifts off to sleep. She thinks that tomorrow they will talk and everything will be different. She was looking forward to it. It could be so great!_

**CV PJ**

"What do you want?" Cal asks as he looks up.

"Well that's pleasant. I was in the neighbourhood and thought I would call in to thank you for your help today before I went home."

Cal waves his hand in dismissal. He really isn't in the mood for talking with anyone, let alone her. His gaze continues to drift back to his computer screen intermittently, still reading.

"What happened to you?" Wallowski comes to a standstill in front of his desk.

"Nothing," he looks up at her entirely unconvincingly.

"And you were in such a good mood after you left me."

"Yeah well, things can change in an instant," he stares at her for a second. "You should know that."

Wallowski gives him an unperturbed shrug and then looks surprised when he gets up suddenly. He comes around the desk quickly to stand close to her. In her personal space. "Fancy gettin' a drink?" He asks her evenly.

The office door opens and Gillian comes in, already talking to Cal about a conversation they need to have, from across the room. Then it goes silent.

"Am in _interrupting_?" Gillian shoots at them, the implication clear; what she really means is: 'tell me once and for all, are you fucking her?' She's looking right at Cal as she asks it. Then it goes silent.

"Uh," Wallowski manages as her eyebrows go up in surprise, so rapidly it looks like the movement physically knocks her off balance. She looks to Cal, whose expression has gone hard on Gillian like it does when he's confronted, accused, guilty, unsure of what to say. Wallowski asks him a direct question as well, but tries to keep her voice down, like maybe Gillian might not be able to hear her. "Did you tell her we were together?" Which is her way of saying 'you let her think we were sleeping together?' Cal gives a disgusted kind of slow blink; annoyed with himself, Gillian or Wallowski. He doesn't break eye contact with Gillian who just stares at him, waiting for an answer to either of the questions. Or for Walloswki to finally take a hint and leave. She doesn't, so Gillian does instead.

Cal gives a sigh. "Gill wait," he tries but she's gone. Ah shit. It's getting worse and worse.

"Ok, I don't know what's going on with you guys now but... I'm so tired of being caught between you two. You need to stop being such a jerk and be nicer to her. You piss her off like it's just some sort of game. Don't you see that it hurts her?" She goes on, emboldened by the silence. "You act like such a child sometimes. I don't even know why she puts up with you. I don't even know why I put up with you half the time."

"Cos you need me," Cal retorts quickly, but his expression is dark. He knows. He already knows.

"Yeah but she doesn't. And yet she's still here with you," Wallowski gives him a very frank expression and then starts to walk away. She adds, "Stop using me to play your stupid games." And then leaves his office.

She's kind of right. He has been using Gillian to play stupid games. And the whole point of the dedication and that moment on the balcony, was to show Gillian that he doesn't want to hurt her anymore, that he doesn't want to play games, and that he wants to start something serious with her. But somehow, since waking up this morning, all he's managed to do is make Gillian so mad at him she won't even look at him now and he doesn't quite understand why it's blown up so far out of proportion. Yes they should have talked. Yes last night was a big deal and it's been awkward since because they haven't had a chance to let everything air, to know where they stand. But know that Cal is standing right here in front of her, Gillian is telling him to just go away and leave her alone. She's hurting, she's angry, she's upset, and he doesn't get why. What did he do? He tried talking to her all day. He got called away with work. Such was life sometimes. Why couldn't she wait for him? She ran back to her boyfriend... Ugh it makes Cal feel sick. She went back to her boyfriend without even giving him a chance. Just like that. Like she doesn't even care about him or his feelings. And here she is acting high and mighty. The bloody cheek of it.

"I mean it Cal," Gillian warns ferociously, barely keeping it all in check. It's not just Wallowski. The detective is merely the last straw. But she really can't do this right now. There are far too many sickening swirling emotions and other clichés inside her right now to be able to have a reasonable, constructive conversation with him. She's kidding the both of them if she or he thinks otherwise. She's blinded by irrationality again; he asked the detective out. She needs to calm down again before they can work things out one way or the other, though she does recognise that they need to clear the air. She's feeling foolish again, fighting back the notion that she _has_ been used. It is something he would do, use someone. But was that something he would do to her? She doesn't know and that probably scares her the most. She just doesn't know where she stands and she hates it.

"Forget it," Gillian tells him through gritted tears. She doesn't want him to see how much she hurts. She wants a few hours to get her shit back together. She was in the process of going home early and slings her bag to her shoulder.

"You don't want to talk about it?" Cal asks, sounding confused.

"Don't worry about it. It doesn't matter."

"It _does_ matter," Cal retorts. Purposefully blocking her from the door, he tries to take her arm. She fights him away, tears suddenly betraying her; she feels worse. Cal looks even more concerned as the salty bitterness free falls to the ground. "This isn't about Wallowski, is it?" He asks with slight disbelief.

Gillian scoffs.

"What?" Cal asks bewildered.

Gillian rolls her eyes at him, folds her arms over her chest, stares him down.

"Wallowski and I aren't anythin' but professional," he tries to clarify.

"Why don't I believe that?"

"You think I would lie to you?" Cal challenges right on back.

"You've done it before."

Ok, he stupidly walked in to that one.

"Is this about Wallowksi?" Cal asks again, his face, tone, demeanour all showing confusion. He doesn't get it.

"You _just_ asked her out," Gillian's tone is hard again. She's gathering back some of her power and she can feel it building dangerously in her chest. Sometimes, she really does just want to hit him.

"You're the one who's datin' one guy and sleepin' with anotha!" Cal snaps feeling very much like she's trying to accuse him of something he hasn't actually done; like she's mad at him for no reason.

"Sleeping? _Sleeping!?_ No, I _slept_ with you Cal. It was a onetime thing. And it certainly is _not_ going to be repeated." She doesn't miss the hurt that flickers across his face but doesn't feel any pride in that. This isn't actually how she pictured this going. She turns towards the wall so she doesn't have to see his face but his voice stops her from turning her back on him completely.

"So you're still seein' Reardon?"

"That's none of your business."

"Isn't it?" He attempts to get close again and she steps back once more, making him feel physically sick. There is a heavy silence in which he just knows she hasn't actually ended it with Sean at all and it makes him feel more worthless than ever before. Was she just using him? He didn't think that was her style. Actually, he knows that's not her style. So what? She changed her mind? She woke up this morning and realised she had made a monumental mistake? "You see, cos I didn't take you for the stringin'-two-guys-along-at-the-same-time kind of girl," his tone is horrid. But so is the hurt.

Gillian turns on him, her eyes flashing in anger. "You're not completely innocent yourself, stringing Wallowski along."

"You can't possibly compare the thing with you and Reardon to the thing with me and Wallowski, can you?" Cal asks in disbelief.

Gillian scoffs again. "You're not going to seriously try and tell me they're two different things?" She mocks.

"You think they're the same thing?" He gets closer to her and she defiantly stands her ground this time. "It's not the same thing at all. I'm _not_ _sleepin'_ with Wallowski!"

Gillian sighs. "It doesn't matter."

"We should talk about what we're gonna do next," he tries to steer the conversation back around to the actual issue.

"What next?"

Cal stops for a second, dumbfounded. "You just wanna forget about it?" He tries hesitantly.

"I just want to move on."

"And forget about it?" Cal pushes. He really can't believe this. It wasn't meant to be like this. They should have talked first, then had sex.

"I don't think I ever will," she admits so honestly Cal is stunned still for a moment, blinking stupidly at her, still guarding her office door. "But that doesn't mean that it means anything. You're good in bed. I'm not surprised." She gives a very deliberate kind of shrug. "That doesn't mean we can have a relationship. It doesn't mean I would want one with you."

Ouch.

She knows it will hurt him. The way he's arguing, pushing the point, and that look in his eye; she isn't wrong about what she saw on the balcony. There was something there and it was real. But his behaviour today, it just reminds her: he isn't the relationship kind of guy. She could and should do better than that. Otherwise she would be the one who ended up hurt. And she has to put herself first at some stage right? Self preservation. Why not start now? Her heart was certainly a very good subject to draw another line over.

Cal's expression says: what the bloody hell!? It obviously did matter. To her. Though he didn't get why. It wasn't her business was it? What he did in the past. He wasn't the one with a boyfriend. He wants to ask her to go somewhere with him and talk, really talk, not around the subject but about the subject. Wallowski is not the subject. And it's frustrating that she keeps bringing it up.

Her words cut him in a way no one ever had before. He didn't think he would ever hear her say that to him, in that casual callous kind of way she reserved for some scum of the earth suspects she detested. He didn't think he would care so much to end up being so hurt. He feels used and stupid and so naive to think that this woman would ever actually want him back. She doesn't. And he is wrong. It stings like a million blows all at once.

"How can you even say that to me when you really have no idea?" He accuses softly. She does have the decency to look a little abashed. But he also knows what her evidence is so before she can recite each point, lay them all out for him, use them to cut him even more, he turns and walks out of her office.

Gillian watches him open the door and go through; feeling as if she has unburdened absolutely nothing and the weight on her shoulders now encompasses half the solar system.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three:**

Gillian leaves right then and goes straight home. The boiling anger doesn't dissipate on the drive this time though so when she gets inside she dumps her bag unceremoniously and throws her keys in the direction of the table beside the door. She doesn't even care that they slid across the surface to drop to the floor. She kicks her shoes against the couch and actually paces back and forth, coiled tightly with frustration. The last thing she had wanted to do was go in there and start a fight with him. Again. Or tell him those things. They were just mean. Ok, she meant to tell him something along those lines, about not thinking they could have a relationship, and just ending it before it went anywhere. She just hadn't intended to do it like that exactly. She's shocked with herself, a little appalled; she is not that kind of person. No matter how angry she gets she always keeps her cool. She puts it down to them sleeping together, feelings and confusion and residual attraction, hormones or whatever. Why else is she being so irrational right now?

No, not completely irrational. What she had said to Cal was logical and right. She knows that in her head, even if her heart isn't listening to her right now. Even if her heart is protesting quite a lot actually and threatening her with more tears. Her phone starts ringing. She goes back to the door and searches through her bag for it, curious, hopeful and ultimately disappointed with the number when she finally sees it. "Hey Sean," she answers gently, suppressing a sigh and turning to walk through to her kitchen.

"Hi, Gillian, I was wondering, seeing as you were busy for lunch, maybe we could have dinner instead? I know it's a bit short notice but..."

**CV PJ**

Cal slams his back door shut in a huff and throws his keys at the opposite wall and then stops to listen. Is Emily home? She had called him before. Maybe she planned on showing up for a chat? But the house is silent and dark and still and so he figures he's safe having a tantrum alone. But with the venting out of the way his temper calms down abruptly and he deflates. He crosses to the fridge to stares blankly at the contents for a while. He isn't hungry and he can't focus. He runs his hands over his face and catches the faintest trace of her scent. He presses his nose to his wrist and he can smell her there on his skin. She has survived there all day, right there at his pulse. He sniffs his clothes and can detect more of her. He gives a little groan. Last night floods in and following close on the heels of that is the sickening realisation that he has blown it. Somehow, it's already over.

How can she not even give him a chance? Not just at a relationship of some sort, but to talk, to explain, to make her see what she means to him, what last night had meant to him. Was it really Wallowski that is driving her away from him? Surely she knows him well enough to be able to tell that he isn't lying when he says there is nothing between him and the detective. It wasn't like Gillian to be so callous. She only gets angry with him, or anyone for that matter, when she's particularly involved. Maybe he should take that as a good sign? But it also means she will stop listening and being rational and open minded. And that is not a good thing. Not for Cal. Because if she's not being rational, he doesn't know how else to get through to her.

Maybe he really isn't the relationship kind of guy. He would have tried for her though and he would have tried damn hard. He would have listened to her, done what she asked of him. He wants her to make him a better man. Because he can't get her out of his head and he has started to think she is his only chance at actual genuine happiness. She is the only one to stick by his side so loyally for so long after all. But then maybe she's right, it's too complicated, he's too complicated. He could easily have misread the situation; she is his blind spot after all.

If she doesn't have any faith in him... he hates to admit this... maybe they are better off apart. She's a good judge of character, if not entirely when it comes to men, but by both of those arguments she's probably doing the right thing telling him to back off. At least he had had one night with her. He will treasure that forever and he will think about it often and she can't take that away from him now. She might label it a mistake, but it was no mistake to him. He had tried for something deliberate. Maybe he had not been clear enough. And he might have let himself down, and her for that matter, but at least he had tried. Cal realises he has been staring into the fridge for a long time and it's beeping at him in protest. He closes the door with another sigh. There aren't words for how he feels right now.

**CV PJ**

She sees something on the bench that makes her stop suddenly. The book. His book. Her copy of his book. The one he had given to her personally with a glint in his eye as if it were a big joke that she should have his advanced author's copy. They both knew if she hadn't pushed him, he wouldn't have written the damn thing. Gillian had put it in her bag and brought it home and left it on the bench to remind her to find space on the bookcase. She hadn't paid much attention to it; she had already read the manuscript. But this evening she realises she hasn't looked inside so she pulls open the cover and flips to the dedication page. She remembers in an instant how those printed words triggered so much, in her and, she hates to admit, in Cal too.

'_For my blind-spot. She's always there, even when I don't always see her. But when I dare to actually turn my head and look, everything is so much clearer_. _I hope I never lose her constant presence, right at my side_. _Love From Cal xx'._

Gillian frowns as she stares at those handwritten words. Love From Cal. Kiss, kiss. He never signs anything 'love Cal'. It was always just 'Cal' or 'From Cal', or 'C' and once, right in the beginning, her first birthday card from him if she remembered correctly, three years into their friendship, he been signed 'Lightman'. Never love. Never with kisses. She feels a pang in her stomach. He's being genuine. The dedication, this personal message. He's serious. What she had seen in his eye, it _was_ for real and she _wasn't_ wrong in seeing it and she was so much more of a callous bitch now because she's rejecting him. He's probably assumed she has seen this already, has already read it, and is now rejecting him doubly.

Worse. If he was trying to tell her that he was serious about her, about them, on some level, would he really be so careless to run off to Wallowski first thing in the morning after they had made love? He had tried talking to her last night. She was pretty sure. That was why he had said her name but she had been more interested in going to sleep in his arms. Maybe she has screwed this up, not him. Not entirely him. Gillian rubs her eyes with a heavy sigh, her conscience eating away at her quickly. She can't leave it like this for the entire night. She will have to go and talk to him again. She should explain.

**CV PJ**

A knock on Cal's back door startles him. He runs the towel through his wet hair again, making it stick up at odd angles in the front and back, then tosses the wet material to the stairs. He figures it's Emily at the door, seeing as she still hasn't rung him back, and he hasn't quite had the heart to talk to her and make the call himself. He's wrong; Emily doesn't knock. It's Gillian. She looks slightly ashamed as she stands on his step and asks if she can come in. Cal supposes she can and steps aside to let her enter even though he feels heavy with dread; the last thing he wants now is another fight. He closes the door deliberately, instead of just slamming it, to put his back to her, to give himself some time to think about how he's going to handle this situation. He has just washed their night together down the drain. If that isn't symbolic... he doesn't know what is.

"Can we talk?"

"I guess," he responds glumly, feeling so very sorry for himself, turning now to face her. She doesn't look great either.

"What I said earlier," she starts softly.

He holds up a hand to stop her. "If you're here to tell me the same thing but sugar coat it this time, forget it. I got it the first time."

"No," she says firmly, raising her chin in defiance. "I came to apologise." She pauses slightly and softens her demeanour. "I didn't mean to hurt you like that."

"Yeah well," Cal stutters as he walks towards her. "I neva meant to hurt you at all."

Gillian's gaze sharpens on his and then she looks away and Cal thinks even when he's trying to be sincere she takes it the wrong way. Damn it.

"Me too," Gillian says softly, meeting his eyes again. "I mean, I never meant to hurt you at all. And I'm sorry that I have."

Cal blinks, surprised. He dares to take a step closer to her, where her back is against the island, and she doesn't move away from him. He takes that as a good sign. She seems calmer than before, more defeated if anything and he thinks, maybe, now that the mood is different, they will actually have a decent conversation. But he's also wary, so he waits for Gillian to go first. Because he doesn't know what she wants. And he suspects it's not him.

She watches him for a moment and when he remains silent she gives a slight smile. "Are you too afraid to speak now because it just keeps getting misinterpreted?"

Cal opens his mouth but gives a slight shrug. He may as well have actually said 'yes'.

Gillian sighs, rests a hip against the bench, angling slightly away from him, but getting comfortable. "This got... so crazy. Today."

Cal nods, shifts his weight to his toes. "Yeah."

"Can we start over?"

"Yes please," he gets closer again, within hand reaching distance. He wants to, touch her, but he doesn't. He waits. Gillian watches him a moment and he realises she wants him to go first. He's suddenly nervous. He has to clear his throat. But he can do it. He can be bold. Bold is one of his many middle names. He was going to go first before anyway. He was meant to be showing her that he wanted more right? That was still the truth of it.

"Last night," Cal starts and Gillian looks so attentive she makes him more self-conscious. What if he says it and she says she doesn't feel the same way? That's what she said earlier, that it was a mistake. "Was..." Cal hesitates again, afraid of showing his cards first, not quite able to put her harsh words out of his mind; is that how she really feels about him? She regrets it? "Amazin'."

Gillian's eyes widen a little.

"You're amazin' and I don't regret it. It was," he stops again, feeling stupid. He stares at her instead, his heart beating too hard.

"It _was_ amazing," Gillian agrees but she doesn't look at him. Cal actually breathes a sigh of relief, for a second, but she doesn't go on though and he starts to worry again. She's not jumping in here and he's not sure what else he should say. He gets closer still, waaay into her personal space, but if he's going to bare his soul, then he wants to be able to see it reflected in her eyes.

"It wasn't just a casual shag for me Gill. It meant somethin', all right?" He reaches out for her hand but she shifts so he gets a grip of her forearm instead and she looks down to where their skin meets. "I shouldn't have walked out the door, I can see that now. Cos now you think last night was unimportant. And it wasn't. It really _wasn't_."

She seems a little surprised and he can see a dampening of her eyes. "All right?" He asks her directly and she nods, looks up to meet his eyes. Finally. They stand for a moment in silence; a silence that isn't entirely fraught and Cal feels optimistic about it again. About them. She needs convincing, that's all. He has to show her, make her understand. He can be different. He will be different. For her.

"Finally had that talk then," Cal tells her, giving her arm a slight squeeze. She nods again, gives a more genuine smile but still doesn't say anything. Cal was hoping for undying declarations but maybe he has to earn that. "Now what?"

"I don't know Cal. It's complicated."

"What's complicated?" He asks gently. Gently, gently, doesn't want to spook her.

"You and me," Gillian tries.

"It doesn't feel complicated to me. You and me have neva been complicated luv."

"You," Gillian clarifies. "You're complicated."

"How am I complicated?" Cal presses, thinking he's being very _un_complicated right now and how does she not see that he's just asking her to be with him?

She says something about him being reckless and he hears 'inadequate', 'defective', 'not up to standard' and a myriad of other half formed thoughts and sentences which is her way of telling him politely that he is just simply not good enough and she is trying to protect herself. He sees the desperation in her eyes for him to understand but that hurt from earlier is back and he's glad he has washed her off his skin.

"Complicated," Cal murmurs and it sounds a bit like defeat.

"With you it will always be complicated," Gillian pauses.

"It doesn't feel complicated to me," Cal says again, because, damn it, he is not giving up that easily. They haven't even had a chance. His hand cups around her ear and he is suddenly so close that his lips are against hers, brushing tenderly, stunning himself with how crazy it makes him feel, how overwhelmed.

Gillian's stomach jumps out, reaching towards him and she shivers, trying to get it back under control, trying to remember to breathe. "You can't argue with this," he murmurs. "I know you feel it."

God she does, she does feel it! And it's amazing, phenomenal... somehow and in some way, wrong. She pulls away from him abruptly but with nowhere to go, the kitchen bench right at her back. "I-I-I," she gapes at him unable to form words. What is happening? What is he doing to her? She is meant to be in control and he is completely undoing her resolve.

"I want you," Cal whispers, bringing his head down to hers in an intimate gesture, resting their foreheads together; there's nowhere else to go.

Gillian steps away from him, pushing him back gently and brushing past. Her head is racing faster than her heart. She tries not to see the hurt on his face or, underneath that, that expression she is having a hard time with; _he loves me, he loves me not_. "What were you going to say last night?"

He turns to face her. "When?" His tone is patient and she wonders if he is not going to take no for an answer and is simply patiently waiting for her to come around to his way of thinking. That would be a change. Being patient. Wouldn't be the first time he's talked her into something she really didn't think was a good idea.

"Before we went to sleep." She can't bring herself to say 'after we made love' because right about now, it seems like it was someone else.

Cal gets closer to her again, his fingers insisting on brushing against her arm. She doesn't step away, though now it's easy to do so. "Are you sure you want to hear it now?"

"No," she admits.

"I scare you," Cal notes, watching her face.

"Yes," her voice is soft again. But some of it, most of it, is that she's scared of how he makes her feel.

"Why?"

"Because," she starts and then doesn't know what to say exactly. It was that he made her feel something. It was that she hadn't felt that way in a long time. It was Wallowski. It was the recklessness. It was... "I can't ever be sure of you."

"I can't ever be sure of you!" Cal shoots back quickly, but it's not anger. "That's what makes this so thrillin'."

"Thrilling?" Gillian responds, stunned.

He nods. "Scariest, most thrillin', most fantastic feelin' of my whole life."

Gillian feels her legs literally get weaker and she has to go back to lean against the island in the centre of his kitchen to steady herself. "What are you saying Cal?" That she isn't brave enough to face this? Maybe. Probably not what he's saying but he might have a point. Why is she so afraid? Because she can't put Cal into a nice bundle and tie a bow on him? Isn't that what she likes about him? Isn't that what separates him from the Sean's of this world; the ordinary? Isn't that what is attractive about him? She swallows hard as he watches her.

He steps closer to her, as if there is nowhere else for him to be, as if he is compelled and can't physically be more than a foot away from her. "Gill, the book dedication is an apology. The message in it, in _your_ book, that's a declaration. And last night, last night was amazin' and I don't regret it and I neva intended for you to eitha. That's what I'm tryin' to tell you."

Gillian gives a nod to indicate that she's heard him. "What scares me is that you tell me you care about me and we have the most beautiful and amazing night together and then... you just run out the door without a second glance and I feel like another one of the many women who swing in and then right on out of your life. You're a complex person Cal. I'm not always sure I know who you truly are. You don't let many people see you or get close and I understand why, but when that comes to someone you claim to care about... it's lonely."

Cal blinks at that. He watches her for a moment but she doesn't say anything else. Her gaze is steady on him, asking him to respond. "All right, I can see how you might come to that conclusion. But that's not how it was for me. You went to sleep and I was 'all right, we can talk in the mornin', it's not a big deal'. But then in the mornin' the phone rang and you said I should get it..."

"I didn't want you to tell me last night meant nothing."

"I wasn't going to."

"I know that now," Gillian says softly.

"You were givin' me this vibe, like you couldn't get me out of the room fast enough. And you covaed up like you were ashamed... And I guess I just tried not to think about the significance of it all until we talked." He looks into her eyes and raises his eyebrows slightly. "You were ashamed?" He questions gently.

"Well it was you," Gillian starts to explain. "That was seeing me naked." Cal suddenly grins because he just can't help it. Yes it is very noteworthy to him that he saw her naked too. "You're the kind of guy who would take photos of me while I'm asleep and show them to everyone just to see me squirm."

"Aw come on I wouldn't do that," Cal is quickly on the defensive. He pauses for a beat. "All right I would. But not now that I know how you'd really feel about that."

Gillian gives a wry kind of half smile. "How do you think I would feel?"

Cheap. Used.

"Yeah," Cal responds. This is what she was talking about. He needs her to make him human again. He has strayed too far down the path of his job; suspicions and lies and remaining detached. It makes him uneasy all of the time. Gillian makes him feel whole. "And then what happened?"

"I felt like Wallowski was more important to you than me because she rings and you jump."

"And when you ring I jump for you too," Cal points out gently. "You were jealous?"

"Maybe," Gillian mutters looking down at her hands.

"I love that you were jealous."

"Well I hate it. I'm meant to be independent and strong..."

"And you are those things Gill. Strongest person I know," Cal tells her sincerely. "So this is good, talkin' and all that?"

Gillian smiles slightly. "Yes. You're doing very well."

"What I don't undastand," Cal continues cautiously. "Is how you could share somethin' so intimate and special with me and then go runnin' right back to Reardon." This is like a reply of their fight earlier in the evening, but this time with maturity and rational conversation.

Gillian looks mildly surprised. "I didn't go running back to Reardon."

"You had lunch with him."

"Actually I didn't."

Cal covers his surprise with his next question. "You're not sleepin' with him?"

"No," she shakes her head. "We never..." She thinks immediately of who she _has_ slept with recently. The flood of heat through her body is sudden and overwhelming. She knew she liked Cal but she had no idea she is this attracted to him. Does he have to stand so damn close? She has forgotten why she came over here. He's making her see things she hasn't considered before. That he... and she clearly... "We never got that far."

Cal nods this time, watching her intently.

"I'm not seeing him anymore. I called it off," Gillian reveals.

"Oh yeah?" Cal raises his eyebrows at her. "You two weren't serious?" He realises he has clearly misinterpreted whatever he had seen at lunch. He thought the smiles were flirting, he realises now she was being polite.

Gillian shakes her head. "No. He's a nice guy but there just wasn't... anything there."

"Good," he adds firmly. "Because I don't like to share you eitha."

Gillian smiles softly. It feels good to be wanted. It feels like something else entirely to be wanted by Cal. It feels phenomenal to know that today has been a monumental misunderstanding. And there is that nagging heat in her stomach and chest and she just knows there was no way she is going to be able to talk herself or him out of this ever again.

"So will you give us a chance? Me, a chance? I can't promise you roses all the time, but I promise to be there and tend the wounds if the thorns happen to cut. I want to figure out how to make this work."

Gillian gives it a second so she can think about what he's offering her. He's offering her him. He's offering her real life. Not fairytale endings or blue birds singing on sunny mornings. He's offering her all of him, the best and absolute worst. That is more than most men give. They give the best and it is false. Cal is being real with her. He knows she sees him, flaws and all and he is still standing there, asking her if she would love him and be with him and to try. He's willing to try. He wants to. He wants her. More than anything else. He will make sacrifices, do whatever it takes to make it work. He wants the chance to show her how much he loves her. And Gillian wants all of that too.

He sees her at her best and at her worst. Sometimes she has thorns too. He sees them. He doesn't care. He is still there standing before her, telling her, while maybe not saying the words, (but did that even matter when it came to Cal? He is better at showing her, at seeing), but telling her all the same. And he is gently telling her, or showing her, that she feels the same way and that she shouldn't deny it any longer. They shouldn't deny each other. They are the closest friends, they have implicit trust and they have fireworks. They have problems but so does ever other relationship. The best thing about them, as a partnership, is that they never give up.

Gillian nods a little and his lips are on hers a micro second later. She wraps her arm around the back of his shoulder and drinks in the warmth that flows from him. Falling has never felt so sweet. She's not even afraid, not anymore, not now that she's letting go and enjoying it. And she enjoys it. Cal's kisses are incredible. It's new and familiar at the same time and he's warm and solid and even if she hit the ground right now it didn't seem like it would be so bad.

Cal caresses a hand down her side, then grips at her waist. He moves his lips from hers, brushes them against her jaw instead, presses a kiss against her cheek. When he pulls away his eyes are dark but shiny and he smiles and it seems the most genuine she's seen from him in so long. He doesn't ask her if she's sure, but it's there, between them, so she smiles back, let's him see she's not faking this; she's in.

Cal reaches up a hand to smooth back the hair from her face and Gillian suddenly feels how hard her heart is beating. But that's not all of it. Yes, talking is good. The past has been straightened out. But what about their future? Where to, literally, from here?

"I think we should just keep it simple," Gillian speaks into the easy silence.

Cal's face remains tender, even though he's not sure what she means. "Simple?" He asks.

"Yeah," she looks hopeful. "Simple. Not complicated."

"Right."

"You wouldn't want that?" She asks tentatively and he can see suddenly how nervous she is too. Thin ice. Both of them. But hopefully heading towards solider ground, something more stable.

"No yeah, I mean. I'd do simple if you wanted simple."

"I think simple would be best for now."

"I'll take what I can get. But I'm, I'd have to admit, I'm surprised that's what you'd want."

"Why?"

"You're not the simple kind of girl, luv." Cal pauses slightly, realises how that sounds. "Not that I'm sayin' there's anythin' wrong with not bein' a relationship kind of girl but I just kind of didn't figure you for not wantin' that..." He stops when he realises she's straight out staring at him like he's not speaking English. "What?"

"I just think it's too much right now. For the both of us. We should just make it easy."

"All right," Cal agrees. "But I'm here Gill. I'm not interested in anyone else. If you want to do casual, well then... I'd."

"Wait what?"

"What?" Cal repeats, confused.

"Did you say casual?"

"Yeah. Isn't that what you said?"

"No I said simple."

"Doesn't that mean casual?"

She laughs. A slight laugh, but a laugh all the same; amused. "No."

"It doesn't?" Cal let's his eyebrows go up.

"No," Gillian shakes her head. "God we're terrible at this."

Cal feels chagrin and a little frustration. "What do you mean?"

She meets his eyes, a smile still in their blue depths. "Communicating. We suck at it."

Cal watches her mirth for a second and then indulges a little smile of his own. Mostly because she's so beautiful when she looks at him like that and his heart rate hasn't slowed since she came in his door.

Gillian shakes the hair out of her face. "By simple I meant, not casual, but not intense like a relationship. I just meant we should keep it simple. Date. But I'm not expecting more from you. I don't want to get married or move in together in six months time or... I don't know. But nor do I want to date other people."

"You want me to be your boyfriend?"

"Yes. Do you want to be my boyfriend?" She almost winces as she says it, like she's preparing herself for the blow that is sure to follow.

Cal takes her hand. "Yes, god, yes I want that. I don't want you to..." He almost says 'hate me', because that is the opposite of what he has trying to achieve with this whole thing between them, but he stops. "I want to be your boyfriend," he says firmly.

Gillian gives a slight smile, so slight Cal almost misses it, but it's there and his heart finally eases. Her fingers tighten against his subconsciously, and yeah, it feels a bit like everything has suddenly and so easily aligned how it was meant to that morning. He can do boyfriend. He can do boyfriend really well actually but he has to admit, knowing there's no pressure to act on milestones he might not be ready for... that makes it easier too. This could be good. Really good. It will give him a chance to figure her out.

"I don't want that eitha," Cal speaks again. "The datin' otha people bit."

"So Wallowski?"

Cal almost groans. Almost. Haven't they gone over this already? Oh wait... He did something stupid and she was there to witness it. "There's nothin' there," he tells her quietly.

"You flirt with her."

"I flirt with a lot of people."

"I know."

"I'll stop doin' that then."

"I don't mind the flirting Cal, it's what happens next that makes me..." She stops abruptly.

"Nothin' has eva happened nor will it. I'm not that kind of guy Gill."

"I know, I know," she quickly eases. "I know you wouldn't if we were together."

"We are together, aren't we?"

Gillian straightens her shoulders. "Yeah, I guess we are."

Cal smiles again, because, damn it feels good hearing that. "Good." That sweet little smile again and his heart is just about in his throat. She nods again and they kiss again. A lot more kissing. "Gill?"

"Hm?"

"Can we go sit now? As much as I love kissin' you, it's a little weird standin' in the middle of my kitchen."

Gillian gives a slight laugh and her eyes turn a devilish blue. "Let's go upstairs," she whispers against his mouth before kissing him again.


End file.
